Do You Remember That Sandwich?

Do you remember that sandwich?

Everybody loves breakfast

This is what he said

While eating his Haferflocken

On the Zug way to Luzern

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Birds were crazy round that lake

Fighting for the eggs' protection

On this lovely April day

You could see poor Barold's tension

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After Küssnacht it got steep

But that wasn't gonna stop him

With such strength in both his legs

and those two cute lil butt cheeks

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In the middle of the woods

Pure wild magic with this fella

Surrounded by chirping birds

And an old lady's umbrella

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38 was the best route

Cause it offered all that matters

Including secluded hills

For him to empty his bladder

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Freakin' best sandwich I've had

Best lake views you'll ever see

And he made me super happy

Cause the view seat was for me

☼

Oreo ice cream and some coffee

While he did some people watching

He was back to being sweet

After getting pre-food grumpy

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He's so smart my lil Swiss ginger

With his cosmic knowledge thirst

And he's sweet just like the children

Cause he put the children first

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He thought I was gonna die

Cause I didn't want no dinner

That's ok because by caring

He's no doubt his girlfriend's winner

☼

We forgot to buy some postcards

But don't worry there's no harm

Cause he got a tattooed souvenir

With the sunburn on his arms

☼

Everybody loves breakfast

This is what he said

Shutting his tired hazel eyes

After a day in Luzern

AphROADisiac

I think I am falling in love.

It happened unexpectedly. I wasn't looking for it.

Bittersweet goodbyes after time spent together. Excited anticipation before the next encounter increasing proportionally to the unfolding potential of experience. And then, butterflies. An unsolicited smile that can't help but to unfailingly show up on my face.

I am talking about road cycling. 

If it weren't for "corona", I would have gone to the gym that day, as usual, instead of attempting to reach a far up high village on my 30 kg city bike, failing miserably. I wouldn't have brought it up to a friend who happens to own a billion road bikes. She wouldn't have offered to lend me one to try again together that weekend. I wouldn't have done it, I wouldn't have had the experience. I wouldn't have loved it. And I wouldn't have bought my now beloved gravel bike —an undeniably gorgeous, miraculously light piece of wonderful German engineering. 

I remember looking at cyclists overtaking me with skepticism. The complicated gear, the aggressive position, the intimidating speed. I didn't get it at first. Now I might be turning into one of them.

Just in the last couple of days I have witnessed some beautiful, heart melting sunsets I would have otherwise missed. I have set foot (or tires) on exuberant fields and peaceful hills that, up until now, I had just looked at from city windows or bridges. I have witnessed flocks of different kinds of birds taking off ahead of on lonely roads as a startled reaction to my approach. For once, I have been the one taking over dozens of city bikes. A route that took me half a day to complete two years ago, I have been able to cover in just two hours today. The steepness of it felt like a stimulating challenge to be mastered, instead of an enemy that couldn’t be defeated. All the while having my muscles grind, my heart race, and my sweaty skin melt with the wind in exchange for a cooling sense of freedom.

What’s not to love?

35 km on the Otago Rail Trail

As I’m typing, I’m still under the adrenaline rush.

Of all amazing things I’ve had the opportunity to experience in New Zealand, this probably has been my favorite so far. The combination of a cloudy, mildly fresh —but not too cool— day; gorgeous, raw, rural landscape, and the beloved —and by this point much needed— physical sensation of exercising was so rewarding, so fulfilling, I was ecstatic.

We left Lauder to cycle all the way back to Wedderburn. What awaited us? Never-ending prairies of all imaginable nuances of golds and browns, flowers of beautiful, bright colors setting a strong contrast against the pale vegetation and the grey sky. On both sides of the dirt road, countless sheep and cows feeing on the exuberant grass —they occasionally lifted their heads to set their curious eyes on us as we circled through—, the sporadic sight of a jackrabbit hopping ahead on the road, and beautiful birds (according to my field guide to the wildlife of New Zealand, probably many of them yellowhammers).

No cars, no buildings, no artificial sounds or other people in sight to distract us from absorbing the essence of the Otago region through all senses.

It was 35 km of nourishment for the soul, and I could have kept going for many, many more.

PS.: I didn’t think the day could get any better, but then a ladybug just landed on my arm.